


He Who Is Forbidden

by Bittodeath



Category: Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, Forbidden Love, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Behavior, Rutting, Stockholm Syndrome, Virgin Anakin Skywalker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:22:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29136249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bittodeath/pseuds/Bittodeath
Summary: Modern AU with Stockholm syndrome, where Anakin is the son of a rich family and a little bitch, and Jango is a mercenary. Jango kidnaps Anakin for a third party and a ransom. Except something happens and the deal flops and Jango... well he can't return Anakin to his family without getting caught, and the third party got, idk, annihilated. Either way, the easy solution would be to kill Anakin... But Jango doesn't, for some reason, and Anakin gradually gets attached.
Relationships: Jango Fett/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 2
Kudos: 41





	He Who Is Forbidden

**Author's Note:**

> I had this in my drafts and I doubt I'll ever write more of this AU.

Anakin, only wearing a large shirt, sneaks into Jango's room and slowly gets on top of him, while Jango is sleeping.  
Jango wakes up with his hostage straddling him and for a second thinks Anakin will have the guts to kill him... until he sees his expression and _oh_ , Anakin isn't there to kill him. Not in that way at least.

So, Jango grabs his wrists and goes "what are you doing" very sternly. And Anakin slowly rolls his hips down into him. "What does it look like".  
Jango rolls them over and keeps his wrists in his hands. Laying heavy between his legs.

"You shouldn't play with fire."

And Jango is trying to resist, tells himself he shouldn't, but Anakin is just. Laying there, on his bed, and looking back at him with utter trust.

"Please", said from those plush lips.

And Jango is trying not to break. But he still rolls his hips down into him.

"Go back to your bed", said in a hoarse voice. "Before I do something we both regret."  
"I'm here, aren't I?"

He tries to go back to sleep once he's made Anakin go away, but he's desperately hard and he keeps thinking... about how Anakin looked. His scent. His warmth. The softness of his skin. He keeps telling himself that he shouldn't, he shouldn't, but he ends up wrapping a hand around his cock and coming while thinking it's Anakin's hand around his cock.

And in the morning, yes, he sees the dark bruises on Anakin's wrists and it hits him that _he_ did this. And that night... Anakin finds his way to his bed again. Except Jango wasn't sleeping. He couldn't. Not when he kept thinking about him.

So Jango lets Anakin straddle him again, and takes his wrists again, and he can easily imagine the bruises in the semi darkness.

"You're playing a dangerous game."  
"Am I winning?" he says against his lips, and Anakin is so warm and he can feel him through their thin clothes and... He lets his wrists go, dropping to his thighs, and slowly goes up, and under the shirt, just at the curve of his ass.  
"You're trembling"  
"It's exciting. Aren't you supposed to be the bad one here?"

And Jango just. Touches, supple, warm skin, while reminding himself that Anakin is twenty years younger than him and it's a terrible idea.

"You'd take an old man to bed?" He breathes, and- he's not old, he's still in his early forties, but compared to Anakin? Compared to all the experience he has, and Anakin's sheltered life? It feels like hundred of years.  
"I'd take an experienced man to bed", is the cheeky reply.  
"You're a brat, you know that?"  
"You still want me", and behind the bravado, Jango hears the insecurity he already touched several times before. Money doesn't buy love, after all. He finds himself inhaling in Anakin's neck, and it's not perfume- just skin, and body-wash, sweat, and something... He's pretty sure it's arousal. Anakin's or his own, he doesn't know.

"It's a bad idea", he says. "You're my prisoner."  
"You can threaten be if it makes you feel better. I might even cry for you."

And he remembers, in the early days, how Anakin didn't react with fear or tears, but with anger, with resentment and bitterness. It makes him pause, though.

"That's what you want? For me to force you?" He trails his fingers up again, traces the crack of his ass - his control is slipping and he knows it. He feels his pulse, fast and strong, like an animal that was just caught. "Do you want to be scared? To be hurt?"

And Anakin's lips wobble - no, no that's not what he wants, but that's what he _is_.

Jango nearly panics, because this is not something he ever expected to face. To have a pretty boy coming onto him, only to be scared of him. He shuts his brain up by pressing a kiss to those wobblind lips, and Anakin gasps and he shouldn't have done that. He finds himself groaning into that kiss, licking into Anakin's mouth, and Anakin is just as eager, clinging onto him and kissing him desperately.

His hands drop down Anakin's thighs, kneading the muscle there, hiking him up, _wanting_ , wanting so much and knowing he shouldn't.

"I won't hurt you", he says - again. He already said it weeks ago, when he got Anakin there. _Not unless you want it_ , he doesn't say, because Anakin is already frightened and trembling. He doesn't promise ever. "You got here by yourself. You can leave. Why are you scared?"

And Anakin gulps, but doesn't answer, and instead tries to kiss him again. Jango pulls away, and tightens his grip on his thighs.

"I want an answer. If you're scared, it should be for a good reason. I see no reason to be scared here. So, why are you scared?"  
"Forget it", Anakin mumbles, pulling away and dislodging his hands, wrapping his arms around himself and tugging on the bottom of the shirt.

Jango frowns and grabs his face. Maybe a bit harsher than he meant to.

"Don't run from me like this. I can give you reasons to be scared, it that's what you want. But for now, there is no reason to be. Again: why are you scared?"

Anakin slaps his hands away, which he honestly didn't expect.

"Forget it", he grits again.  
"Do that again, and I will slap you back", Jango warns in a low voice, and Anakin stills completely. "You come here, clearly for sex, even though I never asked such a thing of you, and never would have. I told you you can leave. So, why are you scared?"  
"Because I never did it!" Anakin blurts out, angry and embarrassed, tugging on the shirt nervously. "A-And you keep rejecting me and I don't know why! Why couldn't you just fuck me and not ask questions?!"

Of all the things, that is the one Jango didn't expect. Anakin is objectively gorgeous, and the way he came onto him made him think... Well. Obviously, he was wrong. He can't stop himself from chuckling.

"And what, you thought getting me to fuck you without telling me would be a good idea? That's a sure fire way to get hurt."  
"Don't laugh at me", Anakin says, glaring at him, and Jango slides his fingers into his curls.  
"I'm laughing at your stupid decision making, not at you specifically." He grins. "So what, you wanted me to be your first? Bratty baby wants his cherry popped?"  
"Oh my god stop", Anakin screeches, horrified, hiding his face in his hands. "You're a horrible, horrible man and I hate you."

Anakin in squirming, yes, but at least he's not trembling anymore, which Jango counts as a win.

"No you don't", Jango says, and captures his mouth in another kiss.  
"No, I don't", Anakin whispers back, and looks down. "You won't, is that it?" he asks softly.  
"Darling, like you said it yourself: I'm supposed to be the bad one here", Jango replies, and he knows he should resist - Anakin being inexperienced is just reason more for him to resist, but... "I do want you", he whispers. "Keep thinking about you, about your hands 'round my cock, those pretty lips wrapped around me."

Anakin inhales deeply, shivering, and comes back close, fingers twisted in the fabric of his shirt.

Like he did that first night, Jango rolls them over, and weighs between Anakin's legs, feeling their crotches align and clearly feeling the hardness there, bare under his own sleep pants. With the shirt riding up, Anakin's lower half is bared, and Jango takes his time unbuttoning each of them, pressing kisses into what skin he bares.

"You're gorgeous", he whispers, mouth trailing from a fluttering throat to peaked nipples, and a stomach that dips at his touch. "You know, it doesn't have to be more than this", he adds, rolling his hips into him, making his intent clear.

Anakin nods, but he looks even more vulnerable like this, naked, spread out under him on his bed. And Jango can't quite stop imagining him like this on his own plush bed, fingers working his cock - or, better, sinking those long fingers in his ass.

"You've fingered yourself before?" he asks, both because he is curious, and because knowing what experience Anakin does have witll help.  
"Y-Yeah", Anakin gasps under him. "I have- I had toys, home. Some- Some really big ones."

And damn that is not another image Jango needed in his mind. He groans, bites at Anakin's neck. He would have loved to see that.

Jango claims his mouth in another bruising kiss. He knows perfectly well that he shouldn't - that Anakin is his prisoner, that he's far too young for him. Dammit, he knows what Stockholm syndrome is. But he wants, so much, so desperately, and Anakin... Anakin wants too, moaning under his lips, under his hands, asking for more.

"I shouldn't", he groans, trembling, trying to hold off from touching, from worshipping.  
"Please", Anakin whispers, "please I want to."

So Jango kisses him again, bites down on swollen lips and he figures, if he exorcises that one demon eating at him, it'll take the gleam off and open his eyes. He kisses his way down as he opens and lifts the shirt Anakin covered himself with, leaving him looking debauched. His cock is hard, curving towards a lean stomach and soft skin, and already leaking. Anakin is twitching, trembling under him, feeling his breath over heated skin and Jango takes a breath, tries to gather himself - how is he so undone, when Anakin has barely done anything? He doesn't know, but the want burns higher and he opens his mouth, welcoming him in - and Anakin cries out and twitches under him, panting and begging, already so close, so undone...

It doesn't take long to get Anakin sobbing. Not long at all. His hands clenched over Jango's nape, holding on like a drowning man to a buoy. Jango relishes in it, swirling his tongue, licking up the precum that bursts on his tongue, and gradually - but not slowly - taking him deeper, past the soft back of his mouth and into his throat. Nothing exists but the screams above him and the thick scent of sex, the taste of it in his mouth, the heavy, throbbing shaft on his tongue, and the lack of air. His world has reduced to this, to Anakin and the pleasure he loses himself to, and, sometimes, like lightning bolts, the thrilling feeling of his own cock dragging into the sheets.

Anakin is past beyond breaking, his pieces shattering into dust, and Jango is sure he came dry at least once. He takes him as deep as he can, not caring that he's suffocating himself for the sake of another's pleasure, not when he feels like this, and Anakin twitches, begs again, ragged broken, before he spills down his throat.  
Jango swallows it greedily, doesn't want to waste a drop, doesn't want it to end yet, even when Anakin has given everything he could and is now sobbing into overstimulation. He finally eases off when he feels him soften in his mouth, his pleas whispered with a broken voice, body still shaking.

And, to Jango's horror, the demon eating inside of him is far from sated - rather, it wants _more_ , even more ravenous now that it had a taste.

_What have you done to me_ , he wants to ask, but he only finds the strength to drag himself up and kiss his shaking lov- _prisoner_.

Anakin loops weak arms around his shoulders and Jango buries his face in his neck, bringing his hips level with Anakin's soft, fluttering stomach. He brings him close, one arm around his waist, pulling him up into him, and rocks his hips, feeling hairline fractures forming all over his control, all over his trembling body, smearing his own precum lover Anakin's stomach as he ruts with a single minded desperation, panting into his neck.

He never planned to take so much, to _want_ so much, but here he is, standing over a precipice from which there is no coming back. He'd like to say he can still turn back down, cling onto his own broken pieces, but the truth is that he took that step into the abyss the moment he allowed his eyes to linger on Anakin.  
So, cursed for cursed, he'll take everything and burn himself to ashes, just for a moment longer, for a shred of pleasure burning through his veins.

It's not enough and he pulls away, bringing Anakin's legs together, bending his body in what must be an at least uncomfortable, if not painful, position. Then, he thrusts himself between his slick thighs and kisses his slack mouth, grunting with reach rough thrust and feeling the pleasure build, and _oh_ it will burn afterwards, it will, but he wants it.

His world stutters and stops with a gasp - he comes, and it shouldn't feel so earth-shattering, but it does and he slumps, exhausted, emptied and yet still burning with want.

He doesn't care that he's far too heavy for Anakin - and Anakin doesn't seem to care much either, his breaths deep and peaceful as he falls asleep, thighs and stomach splattered with cum and-

_Mine_ , something in Jango growls, and he curls over him protectively, possessively, the two one and the same.

"Mine", he whispers, and closes his eyes to let sleep come.


End file.
